


What Good is a Preacher who can not Speak?

by Leticheecopae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Gore, Guro, M/M, Non Consensual, Oral, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gamzee realizes Kurloz's mouth is useless for spreading the word of the Missiahs, he finds other ways of making it useful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look Makaracest. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, as always some things will slip through the cracks. *whistles and walks away*

The first time they meet Gamzee isn’t sure what to do. The troll before him isn’t what he thought he would be, isn’t like what the history books said at all. His ancestor is as thin and wiry as he is, maybe even more so but the clothes he wears makes it hard to tell what bones are his or not. Gamzee is disgusted with him for sewing his mouth shut. What good is a worshiper without the ability to deliver the sermons of their master? Yet he does speak, in a way that makes Gamzee have to use abilities that he has so far ignored, chuckle voodoo’s slithering inside his think pan while he glares at the troll before him. His eyes keep pulsing in time with his thoughts while his fingers twitch out words, all of which are in Gamzee’s head. But this is who he is stuck with, the other half to him in the job they must do. When he leaves, Kurloz’s thoughts still ringing in his head. He can’t get the sneer off his face for hours.

They meet in the bubbles at random, at least for Kurloz it is. Gamzee has found ways of bending the bubbles to his will, and tries to pass the information along to Kurloz as they slip between the bubbles. It’s infuriating work, and while trying to teach him how to make a door between the nothing Gamzee feels the rage bubble over, his club comes out, and he is swinging. This is where Kurloz crosses a line that Gamzee hadn’t even realized he had. In one, swift thought Gamzee felt his rage break apart, demolish itself as horror and guilt flashed through him. There was Tavros, broken from his inability to protect him. Nepeta, the sweet little troll who was only trying to avenge her Moirail. Her moirail, Equius, his first real kill, his first taste at what it meant to be a highblood and know his place. He left shortly after, leaving his otherworldly ancestor trapped in an area he didn’t know and only returned when he was good and ready.

When he came back Kurloz was sitting patiently, waiting.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me motherfucker?” Gamzee growled, club in hand. Kurloz said nothing, just stared at him with those blank dead eyes and for a moment the feeling of that strange helplessness was back. “I SAID DO YOU MOTHERFUCKING HEAR ME!?” The words shoved it back, rage boiling and singing through him as Kurloz went very still. The nod and hand gestures were small as Gamzee came forwards. “Now keep your ears open and your hands still, and don’t you even get a thought in your think pan to interupt me.” He presses the club to the side of Kurloz’s face, pushing it so the facepaint smudges slightly. It gets him narrowed eyes and a slight flaring of the nose.

“If we want to get this done, and done motherfucking RIGHT, you listen to me. You may be the one who came fucking first, but you are NOT THE ONE who set this shit in motion. You have NO MOTHERFUCKING IDEA what miracles I have racing around after each other out beyond these bubbles. There are so many miracles all up in my pan and this outer ring of nothing that if you even glimpsed them you would scream,” He taps the side of his ancestors mouth, just hard enough to make flesh pinch against fangs. “You can still scream can’t you?” The club makes a ting as it collides with Kurloz’s chin, making his head snap back and hands go up instinctively. The feeling of helplessness tries to prickle over him and Kurloz’s voice is fuzzy in the back of his head.

 _Stop it. The Messiah's don’t want us to,_ but he is cut off by Gamzee’s voice singing through the dark.

“THE FUCK DID I MOTHERFUCKING TELL YOU!” He bellows out, swinging a backhand that jerks his ancestors head in the other direction. The colorful beatings in his eyes are off as Gamzee throws the club away, drops to his knees in front of Kurloz and grabs either side of his head. His nails dig down into the flesh around the horns, and he watches blank eyes go wide in pain, but there is no sound. Not a grunt, not a whine, just large eyes and large hands grabbing at Gamzee’s, trying to pull him off.

“Come on, I know you can make a sound. Just let it out bro. LET IT FUCKING POUR OUT OF YOU.” He stares at Kurloz’s face, watches him twist and grimace as blood starts to trickle out from beneath his hair. “Just one fucking sound.” But nothing comes, instead Gamzee finds hands wrapping around his throat as he’s being shoved back. He rolls with it, works with it, managing to find his way on top each time they roll, claws digging into each other and painting the nonexistent floor purple. He isn’t sure what to do as their mouths met, but when they do neither pull away. Gamzee bites and licks, tries to get his tongue between stitches and growls in frustration when he can’t. Kurloz lets his hands do his speaking, one sliding between their bodies to dig claws into the front of Gamzee’s pants, coaxing his bulge out while the other slices patterns into his back. Gamzee bites at his mouth, his neck, ears, nose, cheeks, anything he can reach while they roll one last time with Gamzee pinning Kurloz to the floor. He still makes no sound.

“Well if you’re not going to say anything, I guess we should put that mouth to use instead. GET IT ALL UP AND USEFUL AGAIN!” His claw are sliding between lips as he says it. Kurloz fights him with his free hand, the other still between them.

_No. No! NO! Motherfucker stop, stop it now. Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking think of it. I won’t do it, I won’t. This is my punishment, stop it. STOP IT!_

But Gamzee is not to be deterred as he presses and slices flesh and wire. He snips one, two, three, each one making a twanging sound from how taunt they have been before he snips the last one and Kurloz seems to lose it. He thrashes hard beneath him, bucks and shifts as his hand goes from coxing to violent. Gamzee hisses at the roughness of the claws digging into the sensitive flesh of his bulge, seeming to not know if they wants to tear it off or stroke it. Kurloz’s other hand is attempting to keep his mouth covered, to keep himself silent. Gamzee’s having none of it. He grips the thin wrist and twists till he hears the snap, watches dead eyes screw shut, feels Kurloz’s bulge writhe in his clothes beneath him, and pulls the hand away. All the while he undoes his pants with his other hand, loosening the tie and shoving them down below his hips as he battles Kurloz’s free hand that is groping him through the fabric. When he is finally free of the cloth he grips the unbroken hand and similarly snaps it, getting another wince and buck of hips.

“Now lets see what that mouth of yours can do.” He ducks down and kissed him again, one hand pulling his chin down to force it open, his tongue sliding inside only to find...nothing. Jerking back with surprise Gamzee looks wide eyed at the gaping maw. There is little left of the fangs he had been sure Kurloz once had. They are now just sharp nubs, broken and jagged from constant grinding and nothing to chew but themselves. Some near the back looked like they have rotted from the inside. This wasn’t what is wrong though, oh no, not at all, what is wrong is what is _missing_.

“No motherfucking way.” Gamzee says as he leaned in close, Kurloz has gone still, broken hands at his sides as Gamzee stares straight into the blackness of his mouth. Where a tongue should lie there is only the indent of the bottom jaw, nothing in its holder but scar tissue. Then something near the back shifts just the slightest and Gamzee feels a slight sickness stir in him. There, discolored and purple, is nothing but a nub of tongue. There are bite marks all over the jagged edges, and the closer he gets the more he can smell the decay that emanates from Kurloz. And that’s when it hits Gamzee how even Kurloz’s breathing make so little sound.

“Looks like you have a space that needs filling.” He finally growls out before jerking that broken mouth open wider and shoving his tongue inside. The taste is bitter, old, and he can stand it for only a few moments before his tongue reaches the nub, the nub that had once been Kurloz’s tongue, and he has to pull back and spit. “Nothing miraculous in your flavor, bro,” he says and spits again before shifting. Kurloz’s hands came up but do nothing as Gamzee moves fofward, his bulge coming out again after wilting from his revelation. “But maybe you have some other abilities that make up for it.”

 _No. Brother please, I promised the Messiahs. You can’t, you CAN’T!_ And its like glass is being shoved deep into his brain, milking pain from him as Gamzee sits with his hands snapped to his ears. It does nothing to keep out the sound of the most horrible shrieks he could ever imagine, and those he could never even dream of. In that moment Kurloz attempts to shut his mouth, head shaking and body bucking as Gamzee feels his rage sliding around his head, his chuckle voodoo’s battling the ones trying to overtake him. He refuses to be beaten again, and raising a hand he punches Kurloz in the jaw, hard. The screaming stutters and he does it again, then again, till there is nothing in his head and all he can hear is the slick sound of blood soaked breathing.

“Do NOT make me MOTHERFUCKING REPEAT MYSELF.” The words echo around the nothing of the corridors as Kurloz looks up at Gamzee, and even with blank eyes the hate is plain as day. With a sneer Gamzee grabs all that black hair that is so similar to his, and forces Kurlos to partially sit up and Gamzee rises to his knees. The other hand tugs Kurloz’s mouth open, and there is only the barest screaming in his head and he moves forwards.

As his bulge slides inside he is greeted by the feeling of prickled teeth, and the press of that slick nub as he slides against it. He feels muscles constrict as Kurloz chokes, little more than a sound of air being trapped as muscles that have been barely used are stretching from his girth. Kurloz is trying to bite down, but is unable to do so. His jaw is too weak from disuse, and Gamzee’s hand is too strong. The nub at the back of his throat thrashes against him as Gamzee’s slides his bulge down, down, down into a throat that is so tight it should be a sin. He sighs a bit in pleasure when he is pressed fully into Kurloz, his hips flush to his lips and nose, nook dripping onto his chest to mingle with the blood of Kurloz’s face.

“I knew your mouth was of some motherfucking use.” He growls and pulls back just enough for his look alike to catch a breath before slamming back in, feeling Kurloz’s nose press painfully into his pelvis with each thrust. Hands that can do little more than press at his hips catching on the fabric of his pants as he moves, Kurloz’s mouth keeps trying to close, and Gamzee can feel climax grow ever closer the more Kurloz chokes. He can feel the tears start as his hip bones come away wet and not just sticky, and when he hears the tinnyest, smallest sob possible in between the slick sound of flesh in flesh; he comes. The groan echoes as Kurloz tries one more time to scratch at his hips, but his wrists are still useless, and with Gamzee coming down his throat they are irrelevant.

When he finally pulls out Kurloz is coughing, retching, purple sliding from his mouth and Gamzee doesn’t care that its a mix of blood and cum. As he finishes Gamzee stands, pulls his pants up around his hips and kicks his ancestor.

“I may not be the ringleader bro, but this is MY MOTHERFUCKING CARNIVAL. So get your ass in line and do as you’re told.” He leaves then, turns away and listens as the retches get softer and softer. Just before he is out of earshot he finally hears a sob,screams of anguish in his head, and smiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, really violent this time around guys. Just warning ya. Also, sorry for mistakes, its late and I did my best.

The next time Gamzee finds Kurloz he almost beats him into the ground at first site. The stitches are back, neat black lines keeping that mouth perfectly sutured shut. Gamzee wants to tear them back out, maybe use his teeth his time, make sure there is nothing left for Kurloz to sew shut. He isn’t going to though, because they have motherfucking work to do. He doesn’t say anything as he walks past Kurloz, who stands as tall and straight as he ever has. It makes Gamzee want to beat him even more.

“Grow a backbone motherfucker?” He growls as they make their way through the not quite dark nothing of the outer rings. Kurloz of course says nothing, not even using his mind to give Gamzee some quip. They walk in silence, going to make the next becon for another doomed dream bubble. English wants to take out as many of the meaningless ones as possible. The ones filled with doomed timelines and ghosts that had reached God Tier. These ones could prove a problem if they ever were rounded up and shown what the undead/dead could really do.

Gamzee stops and Kurloz does the same.

“Make a door here brother. All up and like I showed you, and don’t motherfucking mess this shit up.” His words are filled with mild annoyance at even having to utter them, at how much he wants to hear some sound of agreement and not just movement. Gamzee steps back though, watches Kurloz take from his sylladex the blue bloods blood. Not the same one he had offed, another version that had made it to his quest bed and all, only reason his blood was of any merit.

Kurloz spreas it over his hands, dripping droplets over the floor before the bottle vanishes and his hands are out and spread. For a moment nothing happens, he just stands there with his eyes closed and Gamzee sneers. He wants to make a quip at him, tell him how much of a motherfucking failure he is to their messiah. Then the reality cracks, a door that shouldn’t be coming into being, taking the form of those damn doors Kurloz always thinks of. Large and wide, like church doors.

“Why do you always got to get all up and ornate on this shit? Fucking waste of energy for something that’s going to be blown to bits.” Gamzee sneers and Kurloz just looks at him.

 _Shouldn’t our massiah be given something that will be all up and pleasing to his ocular sockets? Something he can see and know his followers are waiting in the metaphoric wings for him to help these dead motherfuckers take their final bow?_ The words were sincere for the most part, with just the slightest grating sense of hierarchy.

“Whatever bro. Just get your ass back to your kitty bitch and find the codpiece. Going to need it if we want all our miracles to paint the skies.” The words get a frown out of Kurloz who glares hard at Gamzee. “What? Don’t like me poking names at your little pan-rotted slave?” He grins as he says the words. Kurloz takes a step forwards. “I all up and find a nerve brother?”

 _You do not talk about Meulin like that,_ The words rolled through his head like low thunder, making him want to shutter. There is anger in them, a rage that makes him lick his lips. For a moment he can taste the decay of Kurloz’s mouth and feels his hands twitch with the need to tear. _She has been more than helpful in helping our messiah._

“Yeah, and has no idea up in her think pan that shes doing it.” Gamzee points out as he begins to walk, facing Kurloz as he starts a slow circle around him. Kurloz moves as well. “Tell me. Did you have to use your voodoo’s to get her in bed? Was it fun fucking a panless lowblood while you whispered lies in her ear?” It was horrible to say, blacker than black and probably the worst way to get a rise out of his ancestor, but he didn’t care. Gamzee could feel the rage rising in Kurloz, the way it boiled and reached for him. As a Prince Kurloz could break his rage, and as a Bard Gamzee would instill it and use it as he wished. Get the prince raging though, well then, he couldn’t break something he was trapped in as well right?

 _I said shut your blasphemous wind shoot._ He lunges, no weapon, just bare hands and a glowing glare; there is no roar of rage. That pisses Gamzee off. Gamzee catches Kurloz easily, spinning so the other hits the floor. Kicking him in the back Gamzee smiles.

“S’wrong brother? Can’t take the motherfucking truth? Well I am here to open your eyes to see all the shit you’re missing brother.” Gamzee crouches as he says it, smiling a bit even as Kurloz shakes on all fours, rage wrapping around him. “All the little miracles you’re missing because you’re too busy trying to make something red that is barely the palest of pale without your pan pulling shit.” The cleaver flying at him is not something he is expecting, and he is barely able to dodge it as it clatters away into the nothingness. It did give Kurloz enough of an edge to grab him tough, pin him with another one against his neck.

_SHUT UP YOU MOTHERFUCKING WASTE OF A PAN. YOU KNOW NOTHING! ___

__“Really, from the reaction I would say I have a pretty good ide-” the words stop quickly as his throat is slit. A large curving cut that carves a smile into his throat. He coughs and chokes for a few moments, holding his throat._ _

___Don’t worry Brother._ Kurloz says above him, _Nothing heroic about this death, and the messiah needs you too much for this to be just._ The words sound like he’s smirking, maybe he is, but its too hard to see while Gamzee tries to hold on. His hands try to hold in blood that just keeps going, spreading around his head as Kurloz watches him. _I think its about time I taught you how to be silent._ The world goes black._ _

__\----_ _

__Waking up is too much of a chore, but something is pulling him back from the abyss of blackness. It is not a pleasant experience, with each second he feels something else hurting, burning on or inside him. Especially his mouth, it feels like he bit down on a tin made of steel. He goes to move his tongue to feel his teeth. Nothing happens._ _

__Gamzee’s eyes fly open wide as he goes to cry out, but all there is is air. Reaching up with his hands he touches his mouth, finds it sticky with blood and thrusts his fingers inside. There is nothing but aching gums with raw nerves revealed. Reaching farther back he keeps feeling, but there is still nothing, just more pain and blood._ _

___You’re awake._ The voice sounds happy, jovial even. _Thought you would all be up and out for another few...well for at least a while. Looks like the massiah has granted me a miracle._ Gamsee snarls as best he can, but without his teeth his gums mash together, making him yowl without any sound but rushing air. He screams mentally, asking Kurloz what he’s done to him. Kurloz just smiles and kneels before him. Gamzee strikes out, club appearing though it does nothing; Kurloz’s fist is already moving, smashes into his already destroyed mouth, and as he tries to howl he can’t do anything. Its all just rushing air, and he can feel something missing deep in his throat when he breaths, something that makes everything white hot pain as wind whistles past it. He isn’t even able to fight when Kurloz ties his hands behind his back and sits full on his chest._ _

___Close your mouth brother,_ He says softly in Gamzee’s head, and its the last thing he thinks he should do. Instead he bucks up his hips as he tries to get Kurloz off, but he stays perfectly still. Gamzee is unable to get his legs up far enough to wrap around his ancestors chest, and after a few moments he comes to collapse, panting through his ruined maw as Kurloz pulls things out of his sylladex, not having had to move a finger. There is wire, a suture needle, and Kurloz’s tight lipped smirk._ _

___Time to learn how a really follower all up and worships._ Gamzee thrashes once more, trying to pull at his rage, but Kurloz is in control and it can do no more than bubble under the princes power. Gamzee tries to get away from Kurloz’s hand that grabs his chin, pushing it up to close it. He turns his head, bucks, fights as much as he can, but Kurloz is not having it. His fist comes back again, and this time when it connects its to the jaw. The crunch of bone is much too loud in Gamzee’s ears._ _

___There,_ Kurloz says as he grabs the ruined jaw as tears flow freely from Gamzee’s eyes as he lays in a shocked stupor. He feels the ruined nerves in his mouth press together and he tries to whimper, but with what is missing there is nothing but air in his nose. The needle is sharp at least, sliding through flesh with barely a problem as Gamzee’s mouth is sewn shut. On his chest he can feel a slickness spreading from between Kurloz’s legs with each suture, feel his bulge twitching. Gamzee is in too much pain to feel any sort of arousal. When Kurloz finishes he pulls back and looks at his handy work. He must like what he sees because he smiles behind the black lines on his face and rises._ _

___Now I think its time I taught you something my false brother._ Gamzee watches through a pained daze as Kurloz pulles off his gloves, shoves his shorts and leggings down to expose his bulge, and proceeds to kneel between Gamzee’s legs. Through the haze of pain Gamzee is barely able to fight back the claws that tear open the crotch of his pants, not doing anything to keep from catching on the folds of his nook. He is exposed in seconds, the cold of the void touching over his nook and the bone sheathing over his bulge. _That silence can be just as rewarding as a scream. Its all about the motherfucking body language._ A claw shoves inside him and Gamzee arches, trying to wriggle away from the pain. _And I want to see how you’re screams when in pain._ The claw thrusts maybe two more times until Kurloz is pulling it away. It is the barest reprieve as Kurloz’s bulge quickly replaces it, sliding into Gamzee’s body where there is only the barest of lubricant to help the glide. There is no pleasure in this, none at all, and in seconds Gamzee is nothing more than a silent, sobbing mess as Kurloz pistons into him._ _

__There is no sound but flesh in flesh as he wills himself to black out. Its not going to happen, not with the amount of pain shooting up his torso, not with how there is the barest spark of heat somewhere deep. Its not enough to make it better though, not in the slightest as Gamzee pants between bloodied lips that barely open and a nose that sucks in just as much blood as air. When Kurloz coming deep in him, silent and staring above him without even a thought in Gamzee’s head, Gamzee can only find relief._ _

___Be seeing you soon brother._ Kurloz says softly and leans in to press his mouth against Gamzee’s, causing a shockwave of pain that is quickly replaced by the one in his gut. Gasping through his nose Gamzee looks down, a clever being forced deep in his belly. _Good thing you’re godtier motherfucker._ and Kurloz is smirking again. Then he stands and walks away, leaving Gamzee to bleed out onto the floor._ _

__He wakes up sometime later, all the aches and pains gone, his tongue counting each of his fangs as he sits up slowly. He looks over the blood around him and shudders as he touches his mouth. Looking between his legs he sees more blood, and quickly swaps out his ruined clothes for new ones._ _

__The next time he sees Kurloz he is going to cause him a second death, but not before he can get the fucker to scream. He may have cut out Gamzee’s vocal cords, but he sure as hell still has his. Rubbing his throat Gamzee leaves, dragging a foot through the smiley face that had been left next to him._ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE BE WARNED!!! This chapter is EXTREMELY VIOLENT! There is RAPE, GURO, and just plain NOT NICENESS! You have been warned, so please, don't blame me for the chills and churns in your stomach this may cause.

When he finds him he is under no obligation of the Massiah. All he wants is a scream. Just one, single, pained scream; and he is going to get it. Kurloz is sitting in the middle of the dark space, unmoving, hands on his knees that are crossed in front of him. It’s too easy to knock him over with a hard blow to the back of his head. Gamzee takes the moment the wrap the thin twine tight over Kurloz’s wrists.

There is the barest thrashing from his stunned body as Gamzee does it and watches the purple drip down the side of his face. The color makes him grin hard and mean as he watches on. He’s more than black for Kurloz, its nothing like what he feels for his teal sister, how he loves to hear her scream but only as long as its him making her do it. Whatever Gamzee is for his ‘blood brother’ is completely void of romance. Whatever he feels is harsh, deep, and just so full of anger that there is no quadrant for it. He truly wants this pan mulched moron dead; the fact that he already is makes tormenting him even worse because his wish will never come to full fruition. It isn’t going to stop him though.

 _I will kill you._ He hears in the back of his mind as Kurloz starts to move again, wrists tugging against twine that is much too tight, cutting into flesh while Gamzee grins.

“No brother,” he says softly as he shoves and rolls him till he is on his back. “I’m going to kill you. Or get as close as some undead motherfucker as yourself can all up and get out here in our far ring.” Kurloz narrows white eyes at this as Gamzee leans in. “Going to make that voice of yours echo off this nothing until its filled with it.” Kurloz snarls upwards and Gamze moves down to take those scar stained lips between his teeth and chews. Kurloz jerks and thrashes against the body on his torso as Gamzee holds Kurloz’s face between his hands, using teeth to tear away the black thread that taunts him so. His blood is bitter, and when enough of the strands are gone Gamzee shoves his tongue in his mouth to taste more.

Kurloz thrashes hard beneath him as curses filter through his pan, horrible flashes of things Kurloz want’s to do to him. They make him grin as dulled teeth try to bite through his tongue, the stumps of enamel only making the muscle throb. _Give me all the ideas you want,_ Gamzee says in his head, making Kurloz’s thoughts stutter. _Seen a few I wouldn’t mind trying._ He pulls back, mouth dripping purple as Kurloz pants through his mouth, the sound of air whistling as Gamzee runs a thumb over ruined flesh.

“Come on brother,” he says with a grin and presses against his jaw hard. “Lets get a scream.” His hand slips up and slides just under his white eye, which goes wide. “This was something you just all up and shoved in my pan,” he presses and Kurloz’s mouth drops open in a silent scream. “Thanks for the idea.” His thumb slides beneath the cream white ball and the inside of the socket, curling and pulling with a sickening pop as one eye slides out. The other eye goes deep purple as screaming resounds in his head, making it ache, but its not the type of screaming he wants.

“Closer.” He grunts and repeats the action to the second eye, popping it out before scrapping a nail against the inside of the socket.This time, after the outrush of air there is the barest sound of a sob. Its almost not there under the screams in his head, but Gamzee catches it and smiles. “Little louder.” Claws scratch over and in the other socket, and this time he does get a sob, a soft one as purple streams down Kurloz’s face.

His bulge thrashes for reasons he doesn’t understand, aroused by just how much pain he is causing, and not for the first time he wonders if there isn’t something wrong with his pan. The thoughts disappear when he gets a low moan and he is stripping them both down with claws. Kurloz is nothing but rivulets of purple when Gamzee finally gets him undressed, and Gamzee’s own thighs sport signs of his need to undress as his nook drips.

Kurloz’s bone sheath is fully closed, forcing Gamzee to hook a claw under it and shove it upwards even though he can tell Kurloz’s will pull away in a different direction completely, just like his. The sound he gets has him smiling wider than he has in a long time, and within seconds he is using the blood dripping out beneath the sheath to slid into Kurloz’s most unaccommodating nook. There are no lubricants flowing, the canal tight from his bulge still being fully sheathed, and its sinful the sounds Gamzee wrenches out of his throat just make it that much better.

It sounds like he’s dying, pleas with no syllables and stuttered glimpses of words in Gamzee’s pan. The mute motherfuck isn’t so mute anymore with each thrust adding more blood to the mix and making his body jolt. Gamzee takes it all, claws digging and speeding up the non-dying the motherfucker is doing. A particularly hard thrust has Kurloz screaming, horse and cracking, the sound doubling when a claw crooks its way behind his bone sheath.

“Knew you had a miraculous voice.” Gamzee pants. “Knew it all along.” He pulls out and gets what sounds like a sigh of relief, one that lasts only as long as it takes for him to shove his bulge between bleeding lips and ruined teeth, thumbs pressed into the dead sockets filled with purple.

The feeling of Kurloz screaming around his bulge, sucking in air any time Gamzee pulls out far enough, is one of the most amazing things he has ever felt and heard. It tingles through him, sliding up his bulge, his spine, and into his ears.

“Just a motherfucking miracle.” He cums, deep in the others throat, filling it and choking him, refusing to pull out. The moans around his bulge become whimpers, which become whines, which then still all together as Kurloz chokes. It isn’t until he completely stops moving that Gamzee pulls out, trickling more purple over his ruined face. Moving away he sits next to the body, watching the blood disappear, watching the eyes go translucent on the floor till they are gone, watching as they fill in those purple pits he had made in that face.

When his clothing re-stitches and Kurloz opens his eyes Gamzee can see the fear even in all that white. He doesn’t do anything, just smiles before reaching out to pap the others cheek, making him flinch as purple filth smears on his face and over the reapplied paint.

“See you around my motherfucker,” he says and stands, his pants still drenched in purple and making Kurloz shrink back even more. “Don’t fail us in your search for that thing that is all up and mine.” Turning he walks away, grinning as he does so. The whimper he hears behind him is the sweetest goodbye.


End file.
